


Blood Is Thicker Than Water (But You Know What's Even Thicker? Cookie Dough. Tastes Better, Too.)

by DontOffendTheBees



Series: Food For Thought: A Step-By-Step Guide To Confession Via Confection [1]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Baking, Drunkenness, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 23:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10477230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontOffendTheBees/pseuds/DontOffendTheBees
Summary: '“Dirk… you know how to make cookies, right?”The detective glanced between Todd and the ingredients, brow furrowing. “Actually, I was rather hoping you did…”Todd sighed. He was gonna need another beer. “Let’s Google it.”'In which Dirk and Todd ill-advisedly try to bake cheer-up cookies for Farah at 3am, and maybe confront some feelings in the process. Fluffy, very lightly angsty anonymous prompt fill, rated teen for a spot of language and mild drunkenness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again!
> 
> So this is based on an anonymous tumblr prompt for Brotzly baking. Pretty open-ended, I ended up taking it in the slightly-drunk-at-3am-baking direction, with a side sprinkling of found family feels and Farah love.
> 
> I spent SO LONG trying to get this right and I’m still not entirely happy with how it turned out... I think I’ve got a long way to go before I get these characters’ voices down. But I think it’s passably cute so I hope it’s entertaining at any rate ^_^

Sometimes, life at the agency was… exhausting. Often in the good way- the exhilaration of making a break in a case, of seeing Dirk’s eyes light up as he got up and ran to the unheard call of the universe, Todd rarely far behind. _Never_ far behind, actually. Sometimes Dirk even grabbed his hand without thinking, as if they both didn’t know Todd would follow him whether he wanted to or not.

And therein lay the cause of the bad exhaustion. It was entirely possible that Todd looked forward to those moments of careless physical affection far more than he should. He had no idea what was going on in Dirk’s head, whether even a fraction of the feelings he’d been developing were mirrored there, whether Dirk even cared if they were. But these days life in the office was feeling more and more like a delicate balancing act, between being Dirk’s friend and cohort and being… something else. On those long, long days, waiting for fate to drop a case in their laps, with nothing to do but talk to Dirk, play games with Dirk, stare at Dirk whenever he thought he wasn’t looking- those were the days Todd figured he could really use a two-month hibernation and maybe a new hobby.

But occasionally the exhaustion- the good and the bad- paid off, and they solved a case. And if there was one belief held true by all three members of Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, it was that a case well-solved was worth celebrating.

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes Dirk would steer them towards whichever pub he’d discovered that reminded him of home this week, and they’d have three-way dart tournaments and eat their weight in peanuts and chips (or ‘crisps’, as Dirk repeatedly insisted, much to Todd’s annoyance and Farah’s amusement). Other times Farah would coerce them into paintball or laser tag, despite Dirk’s reluctance- his height and awkward gazelle run made him an easy target. Hell, sometimes Todd would even throw an idea into the circle, and the three of them would wind up in some crappy bar listening to a band they’d never heard of, screaming along enthusiastically to lyrics they didn’t know.

And then there were the nights like this. The case was solved and the relief was tangible, and everyone was just too goddamn tired to do much more than drink and talk.

These sort of nights happened almost exclusively at Todd’s place. He’s not sure when they reached the executive decision that his house was the ‘bunker’, but it made sense. Farah was always changing addresses, finding it hard to settle down anywhere since the Springs’ manor burned down, and Dirk’s place was basically Todd’s except colder and less-lived in. Of course it would be Todd’s place. Didn’t mean he couldn’t have a token grumble about it every now and then.

“Todd?”                                                                                                

Todd looked up from where he was idly strumming his guitar. He was a little too drunk by now to get a decent melody out, but vaguely tuneful twangs were good enough. Dirk was perched on the edge of Todd’s bed, watching the sofa thoughtfully. Farah, it seemed, had fallen asleep with her face shoved into the couch cushions. She must have drunk more than he’d thought. They all must have- even Dirk’s eyes had a slightly foggy quality to them. “What’s up?” Todd asked, putting the guitar aside.

Dirk looked at him, frowning. “Farah’s sad.”

Todd nodded. “Yeah. Guess she misses Patrick and Lydia.”

Dirk’s eyes were almost comically wide. “Well, we need to make her… not sad!”

“You can’t just  _make_  people not sad, Dirk,” Todd said, watching Dirk’s face fall with a feeling of guilt. He hated Dirk’s sad face, especially when he was the cause of it. Which was far more often than he’d like. “I mean, you can do nice things for them and hang out with them and stuff, but if there’s something that’s really making them sad they’ve kinda just gotta deal with it…”

“What kind of nice things?”

“Uhhh,” Todd fumbled. He hadn’t been expecting Dirk to home in on that part of the sentence. “I dunno, buy them coffee? Watch movies together? Make them something? I’m no expert.”

Dirk was on his feet instantly, forging right through the first drunken half-stumble. “Of course! Brilliant idea, Todd!”

Todd blinked. “What idea?”

“Make her something!” Dirk said, bouncing excitably on his heels. “We’re gonna make Farah something!”

“Like what?”

“Cookies!”

_“Cookies?”_

“Of course!” Dirk exclaimed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, to him, it probably was. “She mentioned them a while ago- she used to make them for Lydia when she was missing her mother and they’d share them!  _The cookie story,_ Todd!”

“The cookie story, right…” Todd mumbled, still feeling a little out of step. But what else was new? “I dunno if I’ve got what we need to make cookies…”

“I’ve got flour! And butter!” Dirk countered, darting for the front door. “In my flat, I was going to make pancakes! Back in a tick!”

“ _Dirk,_ ” Todd called firmly, stopping the excited detective in his tracks. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

Dirk turned those puppy dog eyes on him again. “But she’ll love it!”

“Last time you tried making anything in my kitchen you nearly burned it down, and that’s when you were  _sober_.”

Instead of complaining a bit more like expected, Dirk smiled again. It was a slightly different smile this time, though. Less crazy and manic, more warm and…  _flirty?_  The son of a bitch. “Well, it’s a good thing I’ve got you to keep an eye on me then, isn’t it? Back in a mo!”

He was gone without another word. Todd thought about calling him back again. But in the end he just sighed, stood, and wandered over to the kitchen. Dirk had clearly made up his mind. And if Dirk ever made up his mind on something, it was probably because the universe had, too.

And honestly, he’d agree to just about anything to see that smile again.

God, he was so _screwed._

 

* * *

 

 

Dirk returned quickly, as promised, arms laden with baking ingredients. To his credit, he managed to get them from the door to the kitchen and only dropped  _one_  egg, although the splash radius as it shattered was impressive. Enthusiasm unaffected, he deposited his armful of spoils on the counter before Todd, like a puppy retrieving a stick. And then, as such puppies do, proceeded to just stare at Todd with a goofy smile, as if awaiting his next move.

“…What are you doing?” Todd asked, crossing his arms.

Dirk frowned. “What are  _you_  doing?”

“Dirk… you know how to make cookies, right?”

The detective glanced between Todd and the ingredients, brow furrowing. “Actually, I was rather hoping you did…”

Todd sighed. He was gonna need another beer. “Let’s Google it.”

 

* * *

 

 

“What a daft way to measure things- they couldn’t be more specific?” Dirk brandished the phone in Todd’s face. “’A cup?’ What kind of measurement is that?”

“You don’t measure with cups in England?” Todd asked, laughing at Dirk’s frustrated pout. It was cu- _funny_. It was funny.

“Ounces, grams- never cups. What kind of a cup? A tea cup? A paper cup? Is it something to do with bra sizes?”

“Doubt it,” Todd said, grabbing a coffee mug from the cupboard. “We’ll use this one.”

Dirk eyed it speculatively for a second, then shook his head. “I think it might be too big. They’ll end up dry and over-floured, it’ll make Farah even sadder!”

Todd rolled his eyes. He grabbed the tiniest shot glass he owned instead. “Better?”

Dirk narrowed his eyes. “You’re teasing me.”

“Yeah, I am,” Todd agreed, flicking a clump of flour at Dirk’s head.

“Hey!” Dirk squeaked, hiding his face behind his arms. “Foul play!”

Todd was laughing too hard to duck the rain of caster sugar Dirk dunked over his head.

 

* * *

 

 

“Well, it’s official,” Todd muttered, eyeing their mixture apprehensively. “There’s more flour on us than there is in the cookie dough.”

Dirk, who was looking about as white as the cast of  _Friends_  in a chalk factory explosion, could only agree. “…Weeeell, flour’s overrated, anyway. The sugar’s the important part.”

“Oh, you mean the sugar in my hair?” Todd griped.

“That was self-defense.”

 

* * *

 

 

“What’s that supposed to be?” Dirk asked, propping his chin on Todd’s shoulder. 

Todd tried not to get distracted by his warm breath huffing against his cheek. Even mostly sobered up, it was no easy task. He frowned. “A star.”

“Oh. I thought it was a spider.”

Todd glared at his smug little pretending-to-be-innocent face. “You gonna cut your own cookies or sit around judging mine?"

“I think I can manage both.”

Todd flicked his nose. Dirk grumbled and withdrew, picking up his knife again. His own attempts to make little cookie men were… unfortunate. His artistic vision of making cookie versions of their agency had turned into a strange little family that apparently comprised of two amputees and Slenderman. “Honestly, how was I supposed to know you didn’t have cookie cutters?”

Todd gave him a withering look. “Do I  _look_  like a person who owns cookie cutters?”

“You will do, if I buy you some.”

“Why would you do that?”

Dirk looked at him, smiling. “For when we do this again.”

“For-” Todd spluttered, star-spider cookie temporarily forgotten. “For when we do this  _again?_  You want a repeat of tonight’s experience?”

Dirk frowned slightly. “Yes, of course. I’m having fun,” he cocked his head a little. “Aren’t you?”

Despite the sorry state of the kitchen, the sugar in his hair and the under-floured, over-egged dough sticking to his counter, Todd found the obvious answer resting on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah,” he said quietly, looking back at the cookie rather than at Dirk's face like he really should. “I am.”

 

* * *

 

 

“There we go!” Dirk said brightly, slamming the oven shut and brushing his hands off on his trousers- which, given the amount of flour on his clothes, only made them filthier. He didn’t seem to care. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Todd looked around at his kitchen. It looked like it had been through an earthquake. “…That kinda depends on your point of view.”

Dirk grinned, unaffected. “Well, I had fun!”

Todd looked at him, and immediately burst out laughing. He looked like a mad scientist, hair all wild and clogged up with flour. It was the most ridiculous he’d seen him look since the first time the Rowdy 3 trashed his apartment. Except this time Dirk was beaming, wide and sunny and happy, and something in Todd’s chest loosened at the sight.

Dirk didn’t seem at all put off that Todd was laughing at him. In fact, it seemed to make him smile wider. “See? Told you it would be fun! And we didn’t even burn the house down.”

“The night’s still young,” Todd quipped, smirking at Dirk. 

He almost had a heart attack when he saw Dirk glance down at said smirk, and then quickly look away with a rosy blush colouring his cheeks. Todd had the sudden powerful urge to reach up and brush the flour away from the pink skin with his thumb. And for whatever reason, right at that moment it really didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

So he did.

Dirk’s eyes snapped back to him immediately, lips parting in a surprised intake of breath as Todd’s thumb grazed across his skin. Surprised, but not upset. At least, he didn’t think he was upset… he gave his cheek one more tentative pass with his thumb. Still, Dirk didn’t pull away. His lips, pink against his flour-dusted face, were still slightly parted and if Todd only leaned in a little closer…

He didn’t know if it was him, Dirk or the inexorable pull of the universe that closed the gap between them, and right now he didn’t care. Dirk was warm and his lips were soft and they tasted of the cookie dough he’d been sneaking from the bowl by the spoonful. 

He pulled sharply back when he realized that they'd been kissing for several seconds and Dirk hadn’t moved a muscle. Oh god, he’d totally misread it. Dirk hadn’t actually been flirting with him at all this entire time, had he? He’d just been being friendly. And British. Maybe British guys flirted with their friends all the time and now Todd had gone and made it weird and Dirk would retreat and stop coming round so much and probably take Farah with him because she obviously liked him better and Todd would be left alone with his crummy apartment and thoughts of how he bad he’d screwed up the best thing he’d ever had-

That train of thought was halted, derailed and utterly destroyed when Dirk, completely of his own volition, crashed their lips together once more.

Todd reached up again, tangling his fingers in Dirk’s hair, oblivious to the little puffs of flour that escaped into the air as he tightened his grip. Dirk made an encouraging noise and gripped Todd’s waist, fingers bunching in his t-shirt and tugging him closer, as if there was even a breath of air between them. 

After a minute that could have easily been an hour they broke apart, but didn’t go far, Dirk keeping his head tilted downward and their foreheads pressed lightly together. They just stood and breathed the same stuffy air for a moment, chests heaving and lips parted, and when Todd finally opened his eyes to look at Dirk the sun itself paled in comparison to the warmth in his eyes.

“Oh, good,” Dirk breathed around a shaky laugh, fingers tightening on Todd’s waist. “I didn’t misjudge…”

Todd smiled through a breathy laugh of his own. “No. No, you didn’t.”

He would have been happy to stand there, wrapped up in Dirk’s open affection forever. But he’d long since sobered up, and cold reality was beginning to creep back in, and far too soon he was pushing himself away. Suddenly, he found he couldn’t look Dirk in the eye. 

“Look,” he said, voice hoarse- either from the flour in the air or the guilt clawing its way up his throat, he couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry, but we shouldn’t… I mean, this won’t- I’m not-”

“Todd, stop.”

He looked up, startled, and Dirk met his gaze steadily.

“Todd…” he said quietly, and Todd could feel one of his hands tugging and worrying at the fabric of his shirt restlessly. “Before you start making any excuses for yourself again, please, just tell me- do you want this?”

Todd didn’t even have to think. “Yes.”

Dirk nodded, eyes looking suspiciously wet, and pulled him close again. “Then maybe… just think about that? Just for the moment?”

Todd heard the implications. They had all the time in the world to talk about this, figure it out. All the time in the world for Todd to make excuses to avoid his own happiness, and all the time in the world for Dirk to tell him off for being too hard on himself. But things like that had no place here, in this strange little dream world they’d found themselves in. It was three in the morning and they were tired and filthy, and for the first time in forever, the universe was giving them a goddamn break. 

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. “I think I can do that.”

When Dirk kissed him again, he closed his eyes and let everything else- his doubt, his guilt, the universe itself- slip away. Just for a little while.

They didn’t notice the cookies burning until it was far too late to save them. Todd couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit.

 

* * *

 

 

Farah woke up, and noticed her head didn’t hurt as much as expected. Which meant either she hadn't had enough to drink for a hangover, or she was still drunk. She glanced at the window- dark out. She must have just dozed off for a while. The latter, then. She sighed, rolling onto her back and rubbing her eyes. She could still feel the edges of the boozy haze in her brain. Best sit up slow.

She pulled herself upright, glancing around for Dirk and Todd and not finding them where she’d left them. Maybe Dirk had gone home. Although that didn’t explain why Todd’s bed was right there and yet Todd himself wasn’t in it. Where the heck had they-

“Quit hogging the spoon!”

“I’m doing no such thing, it’s my turn!”

“Oh, come on, that was the biggest spoonful I’ve ever seen in my life…”

Farah craned her neck, peering over the back of the couch towards the voices coming from the kitchen. Dirk and Todd were perched side by side on the breakfast bar, their backs to her, pressed together all along their sides and passing something back and forth with some low-level bickering. It took her another moment of squinting through the space between their heads to realize it was a wooden spoon. “Dirk?” she queried, voice hoarse.

They both turned their heads, Dirk grinning from ear to ear. “Farah! Hi! Sleep well?”

“I guess,” she grumbled, staggering tipsily to her feet. “How long was I out?”

“About two hours,” Todd said, hopping down from the counter. Dirk immediately followed suit, staying close to Todd. Farah was starting to get the distinct impression that she’d missed something… “Did we wake you up?”

“No,” she said, frowning. “Should you have?”

Dirk was suddenly pretending to be profoundly interested in the microwave. Todd blushed and shook his head. Okay, so she had  _definitely_  missed something. “What’s going on?” she asked suspiciously, eyeing them both.

Dirk was back to his usual chipper self immediately, reaching for a plate on the counter. “Todd and I did some baking! Look, we made these for you!”

Farah blinked. Not what she’d been expecting. Well, sure, she’d been expecting the baking part- they were basically coated head to toe in flour, that much was obvious. But for _her?_  “Why did you-”

Dirk pushed the plate into her hands, and she looked down at the burnt offerings in confusion. “Cookies!” Dirk said brightly. “Like the ones you made for Lydia!”

“Yeah, sorry, they’re pretty burned,” Todd apologized, glancing at Dirk again. “We kinda got distracted…”

Farah was barely listening, still turning over Dirk’s last words in her mind. They’d  _remembered_  that? She must have told that story _weeks_ ago. And here they were, clearly still a little tipsy, turning the kitchen upside down at three a.m. to make her the cookies that she’d mentioned in passing, in a conversation she herself could barely remember.

She felt like she was embarrassingly close to crying.

“Thanks, guys,” she said softly, smiling at them both. “It… means a lot.”

They both smiled back, and Farah decided to do something she hadn’t done in a while. Putting the plate down, she walked over and embraced them, an arm round each man’s shoulders, pressing the three of them together. She felt Todd’s hand fall lightly on her back, and Dirk’s patting her shoulder awkwardly, and sunk temporarily into the warmth of them both.

They were pretty weird guys, with pretty shady pasts, and together they all had a pretty weird job and a pretty weird life. But underneath it all they were good guys, and they were there for her when she needed them. They were more than her weird friends at this point- they were her weird family. And they were trying their best.

Didn’t mean she wasn’t gonna tease the absolute hell out of them for the Dirk-sized floury handprints on Todd’s ass, though.

**Author's Note:**

> Well! I hope it was ok- may come back and tweak in future, but no matter what I did it just would not come out how I wanted it! Still had fun though ^_^
> 
> ***also I was finding it hard to organically fit in more stuff about Todd’s attitude towards starting a relationship with Dirk so I know the angsty bit seems a little out of the blue. But come on, you know our Todd, he’s an angsty self-loathing lil bean, of course he thinks he’s gonna ruin everything if he starts up anything with Dirk. Should maybe write something exploring it a lil more in future...
> 
> I’ve seriously gotta stop writing fanfic for a bit to focus on coursework but honestly, if anyone else has DGHDA prompts please send em my way! I won’t get round to em for a few weeks but I’d sure love to have some fun stuff to do once my project’s over and done with ^_^ In the meantime do send ideas my way if you'd like to see me give 'em a go one day, and maybe leave a lil comment if you enjoyed this fic? Would love to hear your own baking-at-3am Brotzly headcanons!
> 
> If you’ve made it this far, thanks and I hope you had fun!!
> 
> Later, kiddos! X
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT 12/4/17: THIS IS NOW A SERIES!  
> it's gonna be 3 parts in all, i kinda know where i'm going with it in terms of relationship development but i'm open to little ideas/requests for baking shenanigans for these guys to get up to! Part 2's brownies and part 3's cake of some description- if there's a funny/cute situation you really wanna see happen involving the making of either of those things then include them in a comment or maybe message me on tumblr (dont-offend-the-bees) ^_^


End file.
